Mystery Worshipper: Chameleon.The church: Walmer Baptist, Walmer, England.Denomination: Baptist.The building: This is an imposing red brick building set back slightly
from the main road. Cars were parked on either side of the road and I
couldn't see any car park. The foyer is mainly dark wood, making the room
seem smaller than the outside suggests. Entering through a door with a
stained glass panel, I briefly fought with a faded blue-grey velvet curtain,
before reaching the main body of the church. This was in utter contrast
to the foyer  faintly pink plastered walls broken up by Gothic arched
stained glass windows, and a few brightly coloured cloth banners. The
walls soared upwards, and were topped by an arched teak-coloured wooden
roof, with various cross beams, as well as support beams from the walls
to the point of the arch. Altogether it looked like the keel of a ship
had been turned upside-down and used to cover the church.The neighbourhood: Walmer is part of the conurbation of Deal, which
used to be a fishing town, so perhaps they had used a ship to roof the
church. Now it's simply a struggling town, composed variously of retirees,
those on benefits, or workers in either the port of Dover or a large pharmaceutical
company 10 miles away. The church is positioned on one of the two main
roads out, which rather says it all.The cast: As this was a united service, six ministers and priests
from across the town led different parts of the service. The leader was
Rev. Sean Carter, and the preacher was Dr Nigel Wright.

What was the name of the service?
Deal and Area Churches Together United Service.

How full was the building?
Almost bursting at the seams, with 400 or so people there. Glancing round
the congregation I noticed mainly white or grey hair. I was sat in a corner
at the back, under a balcony which may or may not have been full.

Did anyone welcome you personally?
Yes. As I ran up the steps (I was two minutes late), I was greeted with
a handshake by one of the two men standing inside the foyer. He handed
me a programme and told me not to worry because they had only just started.
He pointed me towards a door, and suggested there were some seats left
on the left-hand side.

Was your pew comfortable?
It was a hard wooden affair, without the benefit of either cushions or
carpeting to make it even remotely comfortable. Luckily we were up and
down like jack-in-the-boxes (a feature I have come to associate with the
united services) until the sermon, so this wasn't a problem earlier on.
By the end of the sermon, however, I was shifting uncomfortably, and wishing
the preacher would finish.

How would you describe the pre-service
atmosphere?
Unfortunately, I was late. As I arrived, the members of the congregation
were quietly listening to the opening words, and coughing every three
minutes. The regular coughing continued throughout the service.

What were the exact opening words of the
service?
"I'd like to share with you a verse from Scripture." He shared,
then welcomed us all.

What books did the congregation use during the
service?
A service sheet (endearingly called a programme), with an announcement
sheet tucked inside. All the words of the songs were inside the programme,
and also displayed by an overhead projector, mostly in a readable font
size.

What musical instruments were played?
We were treated to an electrified violin, accompanied by an (unmiked)
clarinet and an electric piano. The violin sounded untuned and wailed
like a banshee through the songs. It hit wince-inducing levels at various
points in the music.

Did anything distract you?
In the chancel, directly behind the lectern, was a large, solid-looking,
cylindrical, blue object. I wondered what it was: a tombola? A cannon?
The preacher referred to it as Apollo 9. Eventually I found out it was
a heater for the church, which they couldn't turn on because it made too
much noise. Why bother having it there, was my reaction. Then the acoustics
of the building were such that during the corporate prayers, our words,
were transmuted into a dull rumble. That is, apart from the ends of sentences;
as the back were several words behind the front, the last few words of
each section rang out crystal clear. Finally, just before the sermon,
the leader pointed to a door just beside the chancel, and stated that
the toilets were through there. I began racking my brains, trying to remember
whether anyone had disappeared through it previously, and came to the
conclusion that if someone had, others definitely wouldn't now that everyone
knew where it led.

Was the worship stiff-upper-lip, happy clappy, or
what?
There were five songs, each in a different style. First up was "Shine
Jesus shine" done fairly slowly. A few of the congregation half-heartedly
clapped out of time when we hit "shine on me, shine on me".
The second song was a lot more jazzed up, with strong congregational singing.
The third marked a real low point in the service, as we droned through
two verses, then struggled to remember what we had been instructed to
sing as the third. In direct contrast, the fourth song brought the only
heavenly moment, just before the sermon. Unfortunately the final song
appeared to be too difficult for the congregation to grasp; they pre-empted
the chorus every time, leading to a ricochet of "here"s bouncing
round the building.

Exactly how long was the sermon?
34 minutes.

On a scale of 1-10, how good was the preacher?
8  He stood behind the lectern, shifting from foot to foot. He was
amusing, using gentle mockery of both himself, and us, to draw us into
his sermon.

In a nutshell, what was the sermon
about?
I admired our pracher's audacity for taking a completely different part
of the Bible from the reading as his text: Matthew 16:18-19. His four key
points were that the church has one body, one foundation, one hope and one
task. All Christians must stick together, for the glory of God, which exists
within us both individually as living stones, and collectively as the one
temple where God dwells. We are built on a foundation of people who are
prepared to confess Christ and give their all for him. Our common hope is
that the gates of Hades will not prevail against us  the church cannot
ultimately fail, though it may go through times of withering as well as
flourishing. Finally, we have a common task; we are given the keys to heaven,
so we can open the door that others might step through and meet with Christ.

Which part of the service was like being in
heaven?
Singing "The Church's one foundation", and being aware that
many different denominations were represented in the service. The ministers
meet up regularly, and every so often a united service is held, which
reminds us that we are one church, though we exist in many shapes, forms
and sizes.

And which part was like being in... er... the other place?
The intense cold that had me (and half the congregation  I could
hear the dentures rattling!) shivering by the time the sermon came round.
Escaping afterwards, outside actually felt warmer. Then there was the
singing: we droned, "In thy church, Lord, be glorified" 
but I don't think he was. Finally the electric violin obviously had dubious
parentage  being a cross between screeching bagpipes, and dragging
fingers down a chalkboard. The music it murdered as the offering bags
were handed round had me shuddering, with jaw clenched, and fingers discretely
in my ears.

What happened when you hung around after the service looking lost?
Not a lot. We were blessed and sent out, and then the service ended. A
few people sought out other members of their own congregations to say
hello to, but the majority made for the exit. I stepped out into the aisle
and got caught in the tide, swept into the foyer. There we all stopped,
because they only had a single door open, and were trying to funnel 200
people through while everyone shook hands with the welcomers. I fought
my way back into the church (receiving dirty looks along the way), just
so I could breathe without being crushed to death.

How would you describe the after-service
coffee?
There was none.

How would you feel about making this church your regular (where 10 = ecstatic, 0 = terminal)?
3  It was too cold, the music was mostly dire, and the pews were
too hard. They all combined to draw my attention away from God. On the
plus side, it was a good, albeit long, sermon.

Did the service make you feel glad to be a
Christian?
It made me glad that many of the churches in the town are prepared to
share worship (if that was worship), and to do more than pay lip service
to the idea that we are all part of the body of Christ. But did it make
me personally glad to be a Christian? No, as it drew me away from God
rather than towards him.

What one thing will you remember about all this in seven days' time?
The breathy fervence of the blonde woman leading prayers for the church
locally, nationally and internationally. She sounded almost eager as she
prayed about those who were suffering, or even martyred for their faith.

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